Deeper
by illiriahrising
Summary: Fourth in a series of Ronon and Elizabeth vignettes. After the events of The Tower Elizabeth must make some hard decisions and Ronon will be forced to confront some of the demons of his past.


Summary: After the events of "The Tower" Elizabeth must make some hard decisions and Rononwill havebe forced toconfront some of the demons of his past.

Author's Note: This is the 4th in a series of vignettes/episode tagsthat I have been writing featuring Elizabeth and Ronon & the growing relationship between the twoof them. I like to think that it could be cannon if we were just given a few more minuteshere and there before the end credits rolled.

_Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and its characters are not mine. They are the property of MGM Studios, The Sci Fi Channel, and Acme Shark. This story was created for entertainment purposes only and no copyright infringement is intended. _

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"They didn't offer you king?"

Elizabeth leaned a bit closer to the railing watching in silent amusement as John's expression grew mildly uncomfortable.

"Turned that down too."

She looked out over the water for a moment then turned to face him.

"John…I know that you probably aren't going to like what I'm about to say, but I really think it's important." She crossed her arms over her chest, subconsciously putting a bit of distance between her friendship with John and her role as leader of the expedition. "I'd like you and Ronon to see Dr. Heightmeyer."

He chuckled. "What? Like couples therapy? I don't know what you've heard, Elizabeth but Ronon and I are just friends."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "I'm glad to hear it, but that's not what I meant. After what happened on the mission I think that it would do both of you some good to speak with Kate."

John's brief moment of levity gave way to tension. "Elizabeth, Ronon and I are both soldiers. Sometimes missions go wrong. Sometimes people die. We're trained to deal with that."

"That may be, but as the military commander of this base I need you to be focused and clear. There could be hive ships on their way to Atlantis as we speak and the last thing that I need is for you or any of the members of this expedition burning out. I can't count the number of times in the last six months that you have nearly been killed and as for Ronon, well seven years of running from the Wraith seem to have left him with a few…issues; Maybe working through some of them with Dr. Heightmeyer wouldn't be such a bad idea."

John didn't look completely convinced, so she decided that like it or not she had to play her trump card. "I'm suspending you both from off-world duty until you've seen Dr. Heightmeyer. Once she assures me that you're both dealing adequately with the stress you've been under you'll be allowed off-world again."

"We're all under stress, Elizabeth! What the hell are you going to do…suspend the whole damn base until we all see Heightmeyer?"

Gritting her teeth she glared at him. "I wish I could! I'd start with myself! Maybe then I could get more than a few hours of sleep a night; maybe then I wouldn't spend every waking hour worrying about everyone else!" She drew in a shaky breath and clasped her hands together tightly. "I'm not asking you to do this as some sort of punishment. I'm concerned about you and about Ronon. I just want to know both of you will be able to put what happened on M6J-341 behind you, so that we can focus on whatever's going to come at us next."

For a moment she thought he might start arguing again, but then he ran one long hand through his mop of unruly hair and nodded. "He's not gonna like this ya' know."

Imagining Ronon's reaction to the situation Elizabeth frowned. "I know, but he doesn't have to like it. He just has to do it."

Without another word she turned and went back through the balcony doors, leaving John wondering how he was going to tell Ronon about Elizabeth's mandate without getting his ass kicked.

The sounds of flesh against flesh and heavy breathing met John's ears before he reached the open doors of the training room. As he expected Ronon was inside, one arm wrapped securely about the neck of Corporal Garret, his knee digging painfully into the young man's back. His voice was stern when it rumbled into the stillness of the room. "That's what happens when you hesitate."

The lesson seemingly at an end Ronon eased his weight off of the young marine's torso and helped him to his feet. "Keep practicing."

John ambled into the room, nodding to the obviously sore corporal on his way out. "Looks like you're really whipping them into shape."

Shrugging Ronon flipped a towel over his broad shoulders and eyed Sheppard wearily. "Something you wanted?"

"Yeah, there is…well, it's actually something that Elizabeth wants." At the mention of Dr. Weir's name Ronon grew still and turned to fully face John.

There was no way to finesse this and make it sound like a fun experience, John knew that. "She wants you to go and talk to Dr. Heightmeyer about what happened on the mission…and…well, about anything else you think you might need to ya' know…talk about."

There was no immediate reply from Ronon, just the furrowing of his brow, the clenching of his fists at his sides. John wasn't taking either of those things as a good sign. "Look, Elizabeth asked me to make an appointment too. It's no big deal. I mean, it's not like Heightmeyer's going to break out the chicken bones and put a whammy on you or shoot you up with sodium amytal. You just sit in the chair and she asks you how you feel about what happened." Glibly he hooked his thumbs in his belt and grinned. "And if your session takes longer than fifty minutes it's free."

Ronon clearly didn't get the joke, but at least he hadn't kicked John's ass…yet. "And if I don't go to see her?" For a long moment the question hung in the air, but John's silence told him all he needed to know. "So it's not a request?"

"She's suspending our off-world activity until we see the doctor. So, I'd get it over with if I were you."

Ronon nodded and turned away, the matter seemingly closed. Sheppard clapped his hands together and turned to leave, thankful that he'd delivered the news and kept his skeletal system intact, but before he'd reached the door Ronon spoke again. "I'm not sorry I killed him."

John's smile faded, his mind flashing back to Afghanistan, remembering the friends he had lost there, remembering the men he had killed. As he glanced back at Ronon he saw in his eyes the same hardness, the same anger that his own had once held before he'd learned to hide it.

"You don't have to be sorry," he said, his voice suddenly sounding tired and tense. "Just… try to act like you wish you were."

And without any reply from Ronon, Sheppard walked out of the training room, suddenly eager to reach his quarters and even more eager to reach the bottle of Kentucky Bourbon he'd brought back from his last trip to Earth.

"Thank you for coming in this morning, Ronon. I assume you know why you're here."

He paced the room his hands hooked in the low-slung belt at his waist and eyed the therapist with a steely glare.

"To talk about what happened during the mission."

Kate settled herself on the edge of her chair and regarded him thoughtfully. "That's right. You don't seem very comfortable with that."

His pacing stopped and he glanced at the chair opposite her, considering if sitting in it would get this over with any sooner and coming to the conclusion that it probably wouldn't.

"I don't think there's anything to talk about."

His reply as always was succinct and Kate smiled softly at him. "I understand your feelings, but after an incident like this sometimes it's helpful to discuss it, to resolve your feelings about your own actions and the actions of others…so you can move forward."

"There's nothing to resolve."

She'd known getting him to discuss what had happened on M6J-341 was going to be difficult. Ronon was not a man who talked easily about his feelings or anything else for that matter; after everything he'd been through she couldn't really blame him, but she wanted to help him. She only hoped he would let her.

"A man was killed and you were responsible for his death."

"That's right, I killed him; Seems like I resolved the situation already."

"And what situation precisely do you feel was resolved by the tower guard's death?"

Jaw clenched Ronon grasped the back of the chair in front of him and leaned down, meeting her eyes. He could hear Sheppard's words echoing in the back of his mind, telling him to just say what she wanted to hear, but he didn't want to do that at the moment. He could feel the same anger he'd felt back on the planet welling inside him and he wanted to shock her, wanted to make her understand that talk didn't always keep you safe. "The situation where he and his friends would have taken turns raping that girl if I hadn't done something about it!"

Unfazed by his blunt assessment of the situation she clasped her hands together in her lap. "She wasn't alone, Ronon. Her family, her neighbors were all there. Why did you feel that it was up to you to defend her?"

His grin was feral. "Because her family and her neighbors _wouldn't_ defend her! They stood there watching him paw at her, just like they'd stood around watching while Aldred was being beaten."

His anger was simmering just beneath the surface but Kate kept her own voice calm and even. "You're angry with them because they were reluctant to defend her and themselves and that's a valid reaction, but you have to understand why they didn't act. They had a very real fear of what the Lord Protector would do in retaliation if they disobeyed the guards. Fear can be a very powerful emotion; it can make us behave in a way that might be difficult for others to accept or fully comprehend."

Ronon shoved away from the chair. "Yeah, well, sometimes you have to stop being afraid!"

"Everyone's afraid sometimes, it's a natural response. Overcoming that fear can sometimes be very difficult, especially when it's so ingrained."

He turned away from her, bracing his hands on either side of the nearest window, staring out at the sea beyond the pane. "Just because it's hard doesn't mean you shouldn't try."

There was a hint of sorrow in his voice that hadn't been there before.

"You sound as if you know what that's like."

For several long moments he was silent as memories of his life on Sateda filled his mind. His people hadn't been so different from those villagers once, but the cullings had grown more frequent, the losses had become too great, and in the end their resistance had come too late. He only hoped that the people who lived in the shadow of the tower faired better than his own people had.

"Ronon…" he glanced back at the doctor, wishing for a moment that he could unburden himself, but he couldn't take the risk…at least not with her. The image of Elizabeth standing on her balcony flashed through his mind and he knew that there was only one person he wanted to talk to about any of this, and it wasn't Kate Heightmeyer.

The doctor was still looking at him, her wide blue eyes expectant and full of sympathy, but he couldn't tell her anything more. Maybe Sheppard had been right after all? Maybe it was easier to hide what you really felt sometimes.

He glanced back at the sea for a second, trying to get a tight hold on the emotions that were churning inside him. "Yeah, I know what that's like." He finally said with a shrug. "Everyone in this galaxy does, but if I'd given up because of fear the Wraith would have killed me long ago."

She stared up at him for a moment more, searching for something deeper, something hidden beneath his casually spoken words, but found only his hard green gaze staring back at her.

"Violence isn't always the best solution, Ronon." Her tone was slightly condescending and he smiled suddenly wondering if she would feel the same way had she not grown up in the relative safety of Earth.

He pushed away from the window and turned toward the door, the walls feeling closer than they had when he'd first come in. "Violence might not always be the best solution where you come from," he said, half-turning back to face her, "but around here…sometimes it's the only one you have."

The timer on her desk was still ticking its way toward the fifty minute mark as he stalked out the door.


End file.
